


Curious

by raspberriesnchocolate



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: And Everything Nice, F/M, Filth, Rough Sex, Sharing a Bed, Spice, all sex is rough when ur a dumb hoe, i guess, idk - Freeform, im sorry, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23021263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberriesnchocolate/pseuds/raspberriesnchocolate
Summary: Mando hears you having a dream about him. He's curious.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 289





	Curious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the spermies](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+spermies).



“That went well,” you commented snarkily, half-covered in grime from the battle.

Mando kept quiet, but by the tired set of his shoulders, you knew he agreed. You laughed and walked forward.

“A room for you two?” The barkeeper asked, already reaching for a card. You nodded, trying not to think about how Mando’s shadow completely covered you. Was he that tall? Must be a trick of the light.

Mando finally spoke up. “Why only one?”

You shot him an annoyed glare. “If _someone_ hadn’t decided to use his credits for ship upgrades, maybe we wouldn’t have had this problem.”

Mando stared at you, looking down at the baby in your arms. You got the message: it was for him.

“Whatever,” You huffed and grabbed the key, reading it and heading up to the room. Mando’s thudding footsteps followed you.

“I’m gonna take the refresher. You want the right or left side of the bed? Little one can take the couch, need to gather the cushions to box ‘em in.” You rambled, taking off the outer layers of your own armor and heading towards the bathroom.

Mando didn’t reply, only moving to create a small nest for the child.

You nodded and headed in, enjoying the hot water and scrubbing the grime away.

  
  
  


You were passing a brush through wet hair (because why would you ever brush it dry?) when he pounded on the door.

“You take too long,” came the muffled complaint through the door.

You rolled your eyes, not caring about your half-state of undress, flinging open the door and gesturing to the shower.

“All yours, let me get my things,” you apologized through a yawn, gathering your clothes and heading out. 

The thing about Mando’s helmet was that you didn’t know that he was looking you up and down, but the faint sense of being checked out made a shiver run down your spine.

Mando didn’t say another word, simply shutting the door. The heavy thump of his armor coming off somehow didn’t wake up the child (who still didn’t have a name, since Mando was weird about those).

You turned your attention back to your sleep attire, and by the time Mando finished cleaning himself and his armor, you were knocked out on the left side of the bed.

Mando rolled his eyes from the inside of his helmet before getting in bed himself, taking care to leave some space between the two of you.

  
  
  


You were awfully carefree about sharing a bed with Mando, so the situation was probably your own fault.

Unconsciously, during sleep, you had shifted closer, curling into his side of the bed with grabby hands. Mando woke, but didn’t stop you, being able to see perfectly well in the dark.

“...mmm, Mando,” you breathed out, and Mando watched, enraptured. You were dreaming, weren’t you? His own dreams were never pleasant, but the high pitch of your voice sounded _very_ pleasant to him.

He didn’t stop you when you shifted closer yet to him, nuzzling your face into his chest affectionately. Mando thought the sight was cute, and wondered again what you were dreaming of, even if the light pants you gave and the tiny hums and moans you let out were a pretty good indication.

He was fascinated.

In your dreams, you and Mando were caught in an intimate moment, heat racing through both of your bodies as you-

Your eyes flew open, and horror registered a moment later. One of your legs had been flung over Mando’s, and you had been centimeters away from grinding on his thigh, armor and all.

“Holy shit, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- I didn’t do that on- oh my-“ you jolted away from him, mortified and red.

He merely tilted his helmeted head at you, and before you could leave the bed entirely, his gloved hand snaked out and grabbed your thigh.

You definitely _didn’t_ squeak in surprise.

“You were dreaming of me.”

It wasn’t a question, even if his head was tilted.

You tried to shake your head, but the grip on your thigh increased twofold.

“You were dreaming of me,” he repeated and you could do nothing but nod weakly.

He scooted up from where he had been lying languidly into a sitting position, armored back hitting the headboard with a dull thud.

“Come here,” he ordered, and when you took too long, he simply tugged you by the thigh towards him, ending up with your knees bracketing one of his thighs.

You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t do much more than stare at him wide-eyed as he ran his metal-covered thumb over the impressions he had created in the soft flesh of your thigh.

“What were you dreaming of?” He finally asked lowly after a long pause. You gulped, murmuring out a reply.

His fingers dug into your thigh in warning, and his voice got just a little bit huskier when he asked you again. 

“Didn’t catch that,” he murmured, and your cheeks flushed hot, heat traveling down your body.

“You.” You repeated.

His thumb resumed tracing circles over the indentations of your thigh. “Good,” He murmured.

“Doing what?” He asked, the cold metal of his thumb inching higher and higher up your thigh.

You flushed harder, shaking your head. The grip came back, cold, hard metal dragging over onto your inner thigh.

“Don’t make me ask again,” he warned, and you choked out a tiny, “riding your-“

He tilted his stupid helmet again, and his other hand crept up your opposite thigh, the glove on that hand even colder than his other.

“...My what?” He urged you quietly, his right hand creeping up your side under your sleep shirt, coming to rest as a heavy weight on the curve of your hip.

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, only reaching forward and tapping the armor of his thigh.

He didn’t reply, nor did his thumb stop rubbing your inner thigh in tiny circles, but the silence made you anxious and you tried to pull away.

“Don’t.” He ordered, grip tight on both your hip and your thigh.

You froze.

Without seeing his face, you didn’t know if he was considering or pensive, only that his helmet was still tilted up at you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

“Riding my thigh, hmm?” He hummed thoughtfully, looking back down to where your knees were bracketing his thigh.

You shivered at his gaze and you just _knew_ he saw it because his thumb stopped rubbing up and down your thigh. 

The hand on your inner thigh moved up to your other hip and you only got a second of warning before he dragged your body even closer to him, forcing your pussy down on his armored thigh.

You gave a choked-off moan, hand gripping his shoulder to support yourself. The metal between your thighs was cold and hard, and every shift you gave made your clit rub on it mercilessly. 

“Shit!” You yelped, clenching your thighs helplessly around his wider, armored one.

His grip loosened, and his hands drifted up to your hips, exploring the soft flesh there.

“You’re not dreaming,” his raspy voice came through the mask, and his breathing picked up, which should _not_ have excited you the way it did.

“Go ahead.” He phrased it like he was giving permission, but you heard it for what it was:

An order.

The metal of his armor had warmed up a bit, and you could do nothing but move back and forth, grinding down on it helplessly while he watched you silently.

His hands guided you every time your hips stuttered, and you would’ve thought that he wasn’t invested at all if not for the heavier breaths he was letting out.

Your hand drifted down from his shoulder to his hard chest, drifting lower to his stomach and almost his-

One of his hands shot out and stopped you forcefully.

“Don’t,” he warned huskily, order coming out in a near-growl with how low his voice had dipped.

“Okay,” you replied meekly, resting your hand on his chest plate once more. You spared a brief thought to how uncomfortable he must be, but it was thrown away when he dragged you up his thigh again.

“Oh, _god,”_ you cried, curling up when a ridge in his armor (a gauge from a blaster, probably) caught on your clit, and his breathing picked up from the reaction.

You were nearly shaking, hips stuttering as you sped up your movements. He remained quiet, even when your wetness spread to the cloth under the armor, the slick of your pussy making the armor plate on his thigh glisten in the low light.

“Mando,” You panted, wrecked beyond relief while he stayed near-motionlessly watching you, “I’m- I’m gonna-“

His grip became steel suddenly, and you let out a choked-off whine. “No!” You managed to yelp before his firm grip quieted you once more.

Silence reigned for a minute while his hands kept you in place.

Finally, he let go and tugged on your shirt.

“Off.” He demanded. You hastily complied, pulling it off and throwing it behind you, leaving you totally bare except for your underwear.

His hands roamed the newly exposed skin lazily, tracing circles along the soft, warm flesh.

It wasn’t until the cool metal of his thumb found your nipple that he decided to speak again.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” He mused, and through the haze of heat his fingers were giving you, you managed to duck your head in embarrassment.

“Fuckin’ soft, too,” He admitted, thumb brushing over the nipple gently before his hand reached higher and tugged a lock of your hair experimentally.

You weren’t able to conceal the soft whine you made at the action, and he paused before slowly reaching higher and burying his fingers in your hair, giving you a moment to process before he tugged on it.

You gasped and arched slightly, trembling from the sensation. He gave a breathless almost-chuckle, repeating it while his other hand moved until his thumb brushed your bottom lip.

“Pretty, soft,” he listed out, and when you happily opened your mouth for him, he huffed in amusement again, adding a low, “so fuckin’ needy, too.”

You didn’t reply, only warming the metal of his thumb the best you could with your mouth.

He let you for a few moments before he retracted it, humming in amusement when you tried to follow it.

“Bite.” He ordered, and you blinked confusedly before complying, biting his glove softly and allowing him to slip it off.

He tossed it elsewhere, roaming his warm hand over your skin with a newfound urgency, cupping your breast in his hand and teasing the nipple with his (warm!) pointer finger and thumb.

“Shit,” He breathed, looking down at your chest with something akin to reverence, “you really are soft,”

You nodded helplessly, circling your hips slowly over the slicked up armor, clit rubbing dangerously over the ridge again and again.

“Wanna know,” He managed, looking lower at your still-clothed (seriously, you needed that off ten minutes ago) pussy and reaching for it, “are you soft down here, too?”

The cold, hard plane of his armor was nothing compared to the warm and eager pads of his fingers, the feeling of them trailing down sparking fire in your stomach.

“Do you need this?” He suddenly asked, index and pointer finger hooked in the waistband.

You slowly shook your head, murmuring out a quick, “I have enough,” wishing he would just _touch_ you already.

He hummed appreciatively, glancing up at you through his helmet before looking back down. “Yeah? Good.”

You didn’t have time to ask what he meant before he abruptly pulled his hand back, snapping the fabric like it was nothing with his bare hand.

You yelped, which faded into a needy moan when his thumb circled your clit, the warmth of his fingertips a stark contrast to the cold metal you had been grinding on for ages.

He gave a breathless chuckle, rubbing you slowly like he was trying to commit the feeling to memory.

You rocked against the pads of his fingers, crying out softly when his index traced the entrance of your pussy and dipped inside for a moment.

“Soft,” He murmured, “so fuckin’ soft,” he said, almost to himself.

He removed his fingers from your pussy, a strand of wetness connecting his thumb to your entrance. You blushed at the sight, turning your head away in embarrassment.

You didn’t get much respite, unprepared for when his gloved hand moved from your hair to your jaw, gently forcing it back to face him while his uncovered fingers, still glistening with wetness prodded at your lips.

“Open,” He commanded, and you complied quickly, sucking in the fingers like you needed them, and in a way, you did. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you just knew they were lidded, and the puffs of breath he let out indicated that his lips must have been parted.

“God, look at you,” He whispered, letting the hand that gripped your jaw turn into a caress. You sucked on his fingers, pausing your hips’ movement to focus completely on the task he gave you.

He breathed out praise so softly that you were sure you wouldn’t have heard it if you hadn’t been straining to listen to every sound that left his lips.

“ _Good girl.”_

The heat coiled in your stomach burned hotter, and you whined around his fingers, rocking your hips desperately.

He chided you softly, pulling his fingers from your mouth and shushing you with his pointer, dragging it down back your breasts and running the spit-slicked finger over your skin like he was tracing shapes you couldn’t see.

“Please,” you breathed, unsure of what you wanted.

He didn’t stop or slow, continuing his lazy ministrations. “Hmm?”

“Please,” You repeated, closer to a whine than anything, grinding down on that ridge that seemed so much smaller than when you had first felt it. You needed more, you needed to feed the fire under your skin, but you didn’t know _how._

“Words, needy thing. What do you want?” He murmured, relaxed voice a stark contrast to the desperation in your own.

“I want… I-” You shuddered when he shifted his leg, friction making you curl with need.

He tsked, thumb finding your clit and pressing into it teasingly.

“Come on,” he teased, thumb moving in a circle. You trembled, whimpering and pressing your face into his shoulder, trying to grind down on the finger harder.

He abruptly stopped, jerking your chin to look at him harshly.

“What do you want?”

Your head was spinning, and you couldn’t find the right request or demand.

He tilted his head, pressing his thumb to your lips while his gloved hand replaced where his other thumb had been. You cried out at the rough metal, so much rougher on your pussy than his bare fingers.

“Come on, you can speak, can’t you?” He mocked, leaning forward and pulling you closer so that you were no longer grinding on his thigh, but instead, you were mere inches from his clothed bulge.

You could almost hear his grin as he brushed his bare fingers over your chin, dipping lower to your nipple.

“Can’t you?” He repeated, voice a bit rougher. You give a wordless whine in response, and suddenly, his fingers invade your mouth, stopping any words you might have managed.

You shake your head and whine again, hand finally coming down to his hard cock. You press against it desperately, and he curses in response, helmet tipping back as he groaned at the sensation.

“Fuck, you want it bad, don’t you,” He managed, voice tight and hoarse.

You nodded around his fingers, eyes wide and hopeful.

He pulled his fingers out to trace your face, tilting his head and giving you that same look, like he couldn’t figure you out.

“Fuck,” He groaned when you pressed against his cock again, and he lets you continue for a moment before he shakes his head, pushing you away a small amount and reaching for it himself, somehow opening his suit and pulling it out.

You can’t see it clearly, you can’t see _anything_ clearly since you didn’t have the night-vision helmet like he did, so you had to rely on your other senses and take it into your hand, realizing with a start that it’s much bigger than you anticipated.

Mando could see just fine, though, and the sight of your delicate hand wrapped around his cock drove him crazy.

“God, honey,” He breathed, looking down at your slowly moving hand. Touch wasn’t something he indulged in often, and he knew there was a certain level of trust that he was giving you, allowing you to touch his bare skin like this.

You knew it, too, and you were determined not to disappoint him. After pausing and waiting for confirmation that it was okay, you continued the slow, steady movement.

“Just- just like that,” He groaned, head tipping back. His voice came out lower, rougher, less put-together than he always was. 

You loved it.

“Feels goo- feels so good,” He managed, hips jerking up every so often in time with your hand. 

You were awed. He had been so unfazed by everything prior, so seeing him slowly come undone in your hands was…

You felt powerful.

He leaned back, sighing a long breath out in a woosh. “S’ good at this,” he praised, head tipped back. “So _fuckin_ ’ good for me,”

You flushed red. If he was this flustered from just your hands, what if you…

You knew he couldn’t see you with his head leaning back, so you leaned forward, licking the tip of his cock hesitantly, just a little swipe of your tongue.

His groan was loud and sudden, and his hips jerked up harshly, chasing the sweet wetness of your mouth.

“Shit,” he hissed, hand coming to tug you by the hair back to his cock.

You couldn’t help the pleased smile on your lips, taking the head in your mouth and sucking softly.

“F-Fuck,” he groaned, fingers curling in your hair to ground himself.

You’d never been this wet in your _life._

Inch by inch, you took more of him in, lost in the noises he was making. You hummed when his fist tightened in your hair, earning a curse through clenched teeth.

“God, keep doing that,” He ground out, “your f-fucking mouth,” he stuttered, breath huffing through the modulator.

You decided then and there that there was no where you’d rather be than between his thighs.

As if sensing the thought, his fingers in your hair tugged softly, pulling you off. You whined, and he had the audacity to chuckle, tracing your spit-slicked lip with the pad of his thumb.

His fingers were thick, you suddenly noticed.

You wanted- no, you _needed_ them inside you.

“Mando,” you pleaded quietly, taking his hand from your mouth and guiding it lower, happy when he didn’t pull away.

“Please,” You whined, tilting your head at him as if it would help you see his expression under the helmet.

“Hm,” was all he said before pressing his thumb into your clit, one metal hand resting on your thigh.

You cursed and rocked forward, chasing the heat you had felt before.

He suddenly paused, hand tightening on your thigh. You stopped, too, staring at him wide-eyed.

He took the heavy glove you had discarded before, regarding it for a moment before throwing it harshly at the light switch, blacking out the room.

“Mando, what-“ He shushed you, pressing a finger covered with your wetness into your mouth.

Then, you heard it.

A click and a hiss, and shuffling noises that indicated you to Mando’s actions.

He was taking off his helmet.

“Mando? Isn’t that against the-“

“Loophole.” He interrupted gruffly, and oh, _god,_ did his voice wreck you. 

Through the mask, you couldn’t hear it, couldn’t feel the rumble of the low timbre of his voice. You heard his breaths, heavy and ghosting along your skin with their heat.

You swore you could come to his voice alone.

“Wanna-“ he paused, “need to _taste_ -“

You squeaked when he pushed you down, the sensation of his hot breath sparking a fire in your pussy. 

His lips found your neck and your eyes rolled back, the soft burn of stubble making you arch your back.

He kissed and sucked at the soft skin of your neck and shoulders, teeth dragging gently along the flesh there. He nosed at your pulse point, pressing a slow, stubble-scratchy kiss to it.

You could barely breathe, hand coming up to his hair, sweaty and thick, and pulling on it softly.

He paused. “Is this… is this ok?” You decided that you _loved_ his voice, the deep rasp and whispery nature seeping into your very bones.

“Yes, but-“ you paused, catching your breath.

“...but?” You felt his voice rumble, making your heart skip a beat.

“...Can I kiss you?” You murmured shyly into the dark.

You heard a soft whoosh of an exhale, but it wasn’t a no, so you tugged his face up to meet yours, searching for his mouth eagerly.

His stubble scratched your face in a pleasant burn, and his lips were a little chapped and inexperienced but you _loved_ how he felt, how he tasted, how his teeth would catch your bottom lip and how his tongue swiped your mouth and-

He growled lowly, hand fisting your hair again while the glove on his other gripped your hip.

He was on top of you, now, one thigh shoved right between your legs. You gasped into his mouth when he pressed it forward, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh.

“Please,” you whispered into his mouth between a flurry of kisses. He was an eager kisser, forever unsatiated.

“You want it?” He asked, voice rumbling against your body, chest pressed to your own with a heavy weight. You loved it. His sentences’ vibrations made your heart stutter.

“Please. I need it,” You all-but-begged, bringing your hands up to cradle his face and kiss his jaw softly, peppering kisses all over his face. 

You felt his lashes brush against your fingers, and you knew he had squeezed his eyes shut.

“Yeah,” He said gruffly, pushing himself up on his elbows and reaching down, using your wetness to lube up his cock. The sounds were absolutely _filthy,_ and you felt your cheeks burn.

He stopped his movements for a moment, and you almost whined before his hand snaked from up your entrance. You heard his lips part and could sense him tasting you on his fingers.

“You taste s’good,” he muttered, pushing a finger into your mouth so you could taste yourself.

You blushed and kissed him again, and he groaned into it, pulling back and readying himself.

“F-fuck,” he managed, pushing in slowly. You moaned in relief, hips grinding towards him before he stopped it with a hand.

“Eager little thing,” he murmured against your lips, kissing down your neck and scratching it with his stubble.

“Please- just _move,”_ you whined, arching your back and baring your throat to him.

He complied, rocking forward in a single sinuous roll of his hips, ending with a short, sharp push of the last inch.

The sinfully slow with a dash of rough drove you _insane_.

Your eyes rolled back and you made a breathless noise, nails catching on his still armored torso.

He cursed, ducking his head into your shoulder and murmuring feverish praises in your ear as his hips started to grind forward faster.

“Taking it so well, aren’t you?” His hot breath ghosted across your ear, and you shuddered, unable to do much more than nod.

“Such a good girl, fuckin’ made for me, feel s’good,” he rasped, the fluid motions of his hips speeding up.

The noises were _sinful_ , and you turned your head to the side, biting your fist to stifle the noises you were making.

“No,” he ordered, the hand in your hair moving to your jaw, jerking your face towards him. “Wanna hear you, wanna hear you _break,”_ he insisted, kissing you harshly, all tongue and teeth and hot breath.

“Ngh, Mando-“ you choked out, legs wrapping around his hips that kept up that fluid motion.

He shifted, one hand against the headboard and one arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you up just so he could fuck into your body deeper. His hips rocked forward with a slap, and his finesse gave way to the urgency of a man chasing his finish.

His breaths were short, and his feverish praise became curt, just short of delirious.

“Feels s’good, so soft, ngh-“ he gave a flurry of kisses to your neck and jaw again, burying his face in your shoulder. “Such a good girl, so good for me, fuck, so sweet, so- ngh, fuck!”

You gasped and arched and whined in response, not caring that the headboard was rocking with you and slamming into the wall like he slammed into you.

He was a force to be reckoned with, thrusting so hard that you fell limp, and surely would’ve collapsed on the mattress if not for the strong arm holding you up.

“Mando- I’m-“ you felt it, coiling up in your stomach like a spring. You clenched around his hot length, the wet slide of his movements building you up.

“You gonna cum? Yeah? Good girl gonna come around my cock?” He murmured into your skin, hips pistoning hard and fast, voice low and gruff and almost as wrecked as your own.

You nodded into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Feels so good,” you gasped.

His hips grinded a circle into yours, thick cock pressing along your insides in a way that knocked the breath from your lungs.

He groaned, breathing heavily. “You feel good too- _god,_ your pussy feels good,” he grunted, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “you’re so wet,” he teased, licking a hot stripe along your skin.

You whined, burying your face into his neck.

“So wet and soft and _warm,_ so fucking good,” he admitted, starting to get sloppy as he lavished you with kisses and praise.

His cock pumped in and out roughly, and you clenched around him, feeling his groin push against your clit with how harshly he was thrusting.

Since he was holding you up, the head of his cock pressed against your walls, catching on your sweet spot every time he pushed in. You arched, chasing the sensation.

He groaned at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, pressing his body against yours and bending to kiss and suck on your breasts, moving back up in a rush to kiss you desperately.

The sensations flowed around and into you like a heat wave, crashing against your mind and body. “Mando- I’m-“

The coil of tension snapped, and you moaned, high and broken into his mouth as you came.

He groaned, moving to bite your shoulder as your insides squeezed and clenched. His teeth bit into your skin and he growled, arm tightening around you as his hips fucked forward rapidly, leaving you to whine at the overstimulation.

Finally, he thrusted once, twice, then shuddered, groaning and burying his cock as deep as it could go, cumming inside you as your insides milked him for every last drop.

“Fuck.” He groaned into your shoulder, biting it and thrusting once more, making the both of you shudder and moan at the overstimulation.

You stayed like that for a minute, breathing heavily as the waves of pleasure began to subside. He slipped out and shuffled back to where he had been laying, searching for his helmet and putting it on.

You sagged against the bed, closing your eyes and trying to calm down the shaking of your legs and hands. “Fuck.”

Mando gave a short chuckle, shuffling around and getting comfortable.

“What, so just like that, goodnight?” You whined, turning your head to face his expressionless helmet. You playfully flicked it and yawned, moving back to where you were.

A moment passed in silence before you cursed, moving so that you where pressed up against him. “Shut up,” You said before he could protest.

With that, you wrapped your arms around him and fell asleep, not hearing the exasperated sigh from the Mandalorian before he slipped an arm around you in return, drifting off to untroubled sleep soon after.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i was really raised christian huh


End file.
